


On Becoming A True Gentleman

by Steolized



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Attempted Sexual Assault, Drug Use, Drugged Stiles Stilinski, M/M, Possessive Theo, Theo saved the day
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-24
Updated: 2021-02-24
Packaged: 2021-03-14 23:34:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29674992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Steolized/pseuds/Steolized
Summary: What was Theo supposed to do when he had a moaning and wriggling Stiles on his bed?
Relationships: Theo Raeken/Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 1
Kudos: 29





	On Becoming A True Gentleman

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this instead of working, so...fuck my obnoxious co-workers.

The air was filled with the putrid smell of sweaty bodies and alcohol. The deafening electronic music was thumping on Stiles' eardrums. Lights of red, blue and green scattered about the grimy dance floor. People were talking, laughing and gyrating their hips against each other. They all had an exhilarated look on their faces. 

Undisturbed, Stiles stared at the amber liquid in his glass, letting the train of thought take him to wherever it wanted him to be, which, in most cases, had caused him a shit ton of trouble. But he's hard-pressed on turning off his overactive brain. 

Stiles had never been a fan of bars due mainly to the rowdy crowd and douchebags who were always lurking to flirt with him. And their pickup lines had never failed to live up to the standards of lousiness.

Then why was Stiles here? Simply because he's just doing what every normal person would do, that is, getting himself bogged down in the center of ambivalence. Venturing into a dangerous zone one could constantly take twisted pleasure in it. 

Midterm exam was finally over, and his efforts to divulge Theo's evil plans availed to nothing. So a sense of frustration coupled with a tad of horniness made gulping down glasses of spicy liquid seem to be a good way to unwind. And he could probably even get laid tonight if he had enough alcohol coursing through his blood vessels to numb his mind. Besides, his dad's on night shift and Scott's spending quality time with his precious little girlfriend. Nope, jealousy was not in Stiles Stilinski's vocabulary.

"Hey gorgeous, loneliness isn't a great color on you." A deep voice came from Stiles' left side.

Do people that are capable of coming up with a decent opening exist or what? Stiles tried to suppress the urge of giving an eye-roll and turned around anyway.

"Well, do enlighten me then what'd look great on me." Stiles said. 

Towering in front of him was a burly man of about 30. Brown hair neatly pomaded, a pair of silver eyes set above his chiseled nose, and a smell of sandalwood wafting off him now and then. A charming dude, at least from the outside.

"Me." The stranger smirked. 

Rotten inside, then.

"Not the most impressive pickup line I've heard and allusions of that kind are always cheesy as hell." Stiles said. He definitely wasn't wasted enough to sleep with this guy. 

"Mea culpa." The suave bastard, leaning slightly against the sleek counter, looked evidently unfazed, a smirk still plastered on his face.

"So may I have the pleasure of buying you a drink…" He paused. 

"Stiles."

"Stiles." The man softly repeated his name as if he was tasting a dessert. "It suits you, you look…agile. And I'm Tomothy." Every word in his bass voice was articulated in a disturbingly sensual way.

"The classic Martini sounds good?" Tomothy didn't bother to wait for an answer, he gesticulated at the bartender who nodded knowingly and went away to prepared the drink.

Stiles knocked his fingers on the counter in a steady rhythm, staring into space, trying for nonchalance. He failed. "Dude, you really need to stop ogling me," Stiles remarked. He felt like Tomothy was licking him up and down with his eyes. 

"I'm only appreciating a fine art. Is that a crime?" Tomothy chuckled heartily, showing off his unblemished white teeth.

It suddenly came to Stiles that Tomothy's intense look reminded him of Theo. Theo, who had been an overt stalker of Stiles since he came back to Beacon Hills, always gave him this fervent look every time Stiles looked over his shoulder. Stiles felt like he'd be instantly devoured by Theo if he closed his eyes for only a split second. Eyes, Theo's eyes. Ironically they gave away too many messages that Stiles was afraid of deciphering. Which begged for the question: why exactly did Stiles get cold feet all of a sudden? 

"Here." Stiles was brought back from his revery by Tomothy's voice. With a flourish he handed Stiles the crystal clear glass at which Stiles narrowed his eyes. He tried to squeeze out some providence or common sense that should tell him to turn down that ominous Martini. Stiles scrutinized it silently, for some uncanny reasons, he'd rather it was Theo that offered to buy him a drink. That particular thought sacred him sending goosebumps all over his body. 

Shaking his hand Stiles tried to erase that scenario from his mind and mull over the tricky problem at hand. He's here to let loose after all, right? And who knew what sort of supernatural creatures would pay their unpleasant visit to Beacon Hills tomorrow. He might as well just see where the night would take him. "Live like tomorrow doesn't exist." He remembered that's how the lyrics went. 

Stiles accepted the glass with a sort of vague distaste nagging in the back of his head and swallowed half of the Martini down like a does of medicine. Tomothy seemed relieved, satisfied, he shifted his weight to the other foot and said, "Feeling better?"

"We'll see." Stiles put down the glass and simpered. 

After they exchanged a few banters and stories, Stiles found Tomothy to be a well-rounded MIT graduate. He's smart, funny and he had unique a insight into lots of things. 

The conversation went smoothly until Stiles felt a fit of dizziness hit him. His head suddenly became leaden, and his vision started to blur. He lowered his head and shut his eyes waiting for the vertigo to pass. But it didn't. To make things worse a small fire of lust was building up in his groin distracting him from thinking clearly and threatening to engulf his entire being. 

"Stiles, are you okay?" Tomothy asked as he stepped forward closer to Stiles.

Stiles, head floating among waves of giddiness, belatedly realized that that really was an ominous Martini. "You jerk, wh…what did you put in my drink?" The fake concerns in Tomothy's voice made Stiles want to punch him square in the face. Or a kick in his crotch.

"What are you talking about? I'd never do such a thing! You're probably suffering from a migraine, let's get you somewhere comfortable and you can lie down and rest." Tomothy squeezed Stiles shoulder a little, attempting to convey a sense of assurance to him. 

"Go…Go away…" Stiles tried to push the arm away but it seemed to be an impossible mission with the flabby limbs he had right now. All his strength had been drained out. "Be a good boy for me, Stiles. C'mon, let's get out of here." Tomothy put both of his hands on Stiles' waist and began to drag Stiles away from his seat. The possibility of getting raped by a scumbag really frightened him. A pang of fear shot through him. Stiles couldn’t help trembling. He wanted to scream, to call out for help. Someone, anyone, please save him. 

Suddenly the heat from Tomothy's body disappeared, and Stiles heard a horrific thud behind him.

"Dude, what the hell?" Tomothy cried.

"I'd get lost immediately if I were you." An oddly familiar voice said. 

Theo. Theo's here. Stiles opened his eyes sharply letting out a breath that he had no idea he'd been holding. He slowly turned around and he could only see Theo's back and Tomothy sitting on the floor. 

"And who gives you the right to interfere? What are you, his babysitter?" Said Tomothy, with a sneer, as he rubbed his injured waist.

"I'm his fucking boyfriend and if your ass stays where it is, let's see what'd happen." Stiles couldn't see Theo's face but his voice was eerily calm. 

"Like I'd beli…" Tomothy didn't finish his sentence and his expression abruptly contorted with horror like he saw a ghost or something. He got up from the ground quickly, muttering something under his breath and scampering off. Only a few people stopped whatever they're doing and threw a glance at the commotion. Bar fights are too common to waste their attention.

Theo finally turned around and walked towards Stiles. He's wearing a black blazer with a deep grey bottom-down inside, looking attractive more than ever. Even though Stiles' mind was stuffed with marshmellow for the time being, he could tell that Theo's usual cockiness and smugness were nowhere to be found. Theo was fuming, flames blazing fiercely around him. His face remained deadpanned, though. But where did Theo's wrath come from in the first place? 

“It’s ok now, Stiles, I’m here.” Considering how angry he was, his voice was fairly gentle. Theo collected him with both of his arms and pull him into a warm embrace. 

In an instant Theo’s familiar smell inundated every part of Stiles, confusing his addled mind even more. Stiles hadn’t got the time or energy to figure out why on earth he’d recognized Theo’s smell. The smell, nevertheless, was comforting , familiar and intimately aphrodisiac. 

Clinging on his last ounce of logic, Stiles reminded himself that Theo always had ulterior motives with everything he did. Stiles’d be screwed if he ever fell for Theo’s sweet traps. So why didn’t Stiles break away from Theo’s hold and let him help him to stand up was only a guesswork. 

With Theo's assistance, Stiles managed to waddle across the room. He tripped over himself multiple times as the effects of the potent pill started gaining momentum. The world was all topsy-turvy in his eyes. All of a sudden, an strong arm went behind his knees, and the next second he was lifted off the ground. Perplexed by the unexpected movement, Stiles even lost the ability to breathe for a moment. But when the embarrassment of being carried in bridal-style by none other than Theo Raeken finally descended on him, he started flailing about, desperately trying to get away. "Wait, what, Theo, put me down! I…I can walk just fine."

Theo didn't budge. "I bet you could run as fast as Hermes." He commented in an inexplicably amused tone. 

After a while Stiles stopped squirming, because it's apparently futile and exhausting. To his surprise, being held by Theo actually had its benefits. The cool and silky fabric of Theo's blazer had marginally mitigated the fire burning on his face, which should turn completely scarlet by now on account of the goddammed drug and the embarrassment. 

“In which parallel universe are you my boyfriend?” Stiles almost forgot to ask. He thought with certainty that Theo's declaration of being Stiles' boyfriend could be the eighth wonder of the world. 

Theo only let out a light smirk, tightening his grasp on Stiles and going straight for the gate.

Stiles instinctively took a sniff. Sated. Theo wasn't wearing any cologne tonight, that's good. He's just breathing in the true essence of Theo. It made him feel safe. Now that's something he'd never admit to anyone, including himself. That being said, no one's here to judge him if he intend to indulge himself just for a second, he's drugged anyway. Having made up his mind, Stiles nuzzled further into Theo's solid chest and greedily took in the intoxicating scent.

Things went downhills from there. The dynamite of desire in his crotch exploded. In a short time Stiles was consumed by waves of heat, a thin layer of sweat glimmering on his forehead and an assorted of wanton thoughts racing through his mind. What Stiles found particularly annoying was that Theo fucking Raeken featured in every lascivious image. He's having a full hard-on, which was straining uncomfortably against his jeans and leaking. 

"Aha…" An unconscious moan slipped out of his mouth. Stiles felt that Theo's body went rigid. 

Stiles needed to do something before things escalated. "Theo, take me home." He pleaded.

"Sure thing, babe." 

***

It had been a cool night, the evening breeze blew tenderly, stars twinkling high up, and the clouds were rolling in the sky. Tranquility reigned the town.

Theo set Stiles down on the passenger seat, helping him fasten the seatbelt and settling him into a more comfortable position. Silently he started the engine and drove off. 

The early anger had wore off. Still, Theo couldn't bring himself to imagine what'd happen if he hadn't showed up tonight. Thank god he's fabulous at his stalker job. To be fair, Theo's just looking out for Stiles. He's a man of his word after all. Stiles was feisty, smart and observant to minutiae; yet he could be an absolute dumbass at times, he needed someone to protect him, which was revealed clearly in tonight's escapade. 

His blood boiled at the mere image of Stiles flirting with strangers, men or women. The hypothesis of some low life laying his fingers on  _his_ Stiles made Theo want to kill. And he would, all in good time. Right now, he had a cute Stiles to take care of. 

Stiles had been mostly quiet throughout the ride saved for some sporadic mutterings echoing in the car. Theo could easily detect Stiles' raging arousal. The lecherous smell, coming from Stiles' soaked underwear, had pervaded the confined space. It's killing him. His rock-hard cock started to hurt. Patient, he told himself.

The car screeched to a halt. Theo'd decided to take Stiles back to his house. He knew Stiles' dad was in the station tonight. Due diligence. Theo picked Stiles up from seating; a small smile never left his face. Stiles had been refusing to trust Theo and insisting that he was hatching up some kind of world-dominating plans. Stiles whose skin visibly crawled at his proximity now was snuggling against Theo's chest, eyes closed, a patch of crimson on his cheeks, lips quivering fitfully, one hand griping loosely on Theo's blazer. Theo's smile grew wider, he could definitely get used to having an armful of Stiles like this. 

Theo helped Stiles took off his shoes, his black and red check shirt, his black tight jeans, leaving on only his white T-shirt and boxers. Then he set him down on the bed with great care. Stiles Stilinski on Theo Raeken's bed. This should be an award-winning, world-class painting. Not that he'd ever share this view with anyone. 

Now, what to do? 

The optimal option, needless to say, would be kissing Stiles stupid, fucking the daylight out of him and pumping into him Theo's copious amounts of seeds. The only thing Stiles should be remembering tonight, or even better, forever, was how good it felt to have Theo deep inside him. 

But that's way too rash and risky. Stiles, for all he knew, would probably hate Theo for the rest of his life and refused to ever see him again. Theo could not let that happen. The sun rises from the east. The moon revolves around the earth. And Stiles belongs to Theo. Laws of nature. Would he really hate Theo, though? He had just snuggled up to Theo's chest and breathed in his scent beatifically. Maybe Stiles was attracted to him on a primal level. That's fucking hot.

"Theo…" A whispery word dragged Theo out of his musing. Stiles had opened his eyes, gazing stupidly at Theo. Shakily, Theo kicked off his shoes and climbed on top of Stiles, his whole body bubbling with excitement. Stiles looked at Theo through his long thick eyelashes, a lustful expression on his face. His chestnut Bambi eyes now were all foggy and watery, with an endearing shade of red through them. And his plump and shiny lips were more than ready to be ravaged by Theo. He reached up and pushed away a lock of hair stuck to Stiles' forehead. "Babe, you're so beautiful." A devout admirer of Stiles, Theo was, and he would always be. 

Stiles didn't comment on that. Unvoiced emotions swirled wildly around the little space they had. Slowly, uncertainly, Stiles' hands made their way to Theo's neck, adding a tiny amount of pressure. Theo submitted willingly. But then he stopped, just inches away. "Please…" Stiles rasped. Theo sharply closed the gap between them. 

At first he just gently brush their lips against each other. But Stiles opened his mouth eagerly, craving for more. Theo wasted no time to shove his tongue into Stiles' mouth wrecking havos on every nook and cranny of that hot wet space. So this is what kissing Stiles feels like, Theo thought. He's convinced that he's tasting the sweetest nectar this planet could ever offer. Theo wished time would stop at this moment, so he could keep Stiles all to himself for all eternity. 

The frenzied kiss lasted for about five minutes before Theo gave Stiles a last peck on his lips and pull away. Stiles was huffing, his lips swollen from the earlier abuse. Then he said the most beautiful thing Theo'd ever heard.

"I want you to fuck me." Stiles croaked. 

Now, what was Theo supposed to do? 


End file.
